A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [76]
Max grumbled some meaningless reply and went into the bathroom. By the time he’d finished, Rooster had coffee brewing in the small pot provided by the hotel.
“What are you and Bethanne up to today?” he asked, making himself at home in the room’s only chair.
“I don’t know yet.” They hadn’t made plans to meet in the morning, although it was understood that they would. Maybe he’d take her to Al and Susie’s place, which wasn’t far away. When he’d learned Bethanne was in Branson, he’d called them.
“You mean you traveled all this way and you’re not even going to see her again?”
Of course he was, but he didn’t answer. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Rooster, then poured his own.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Max sipped the hot liquid and hoped it would restore his composure.
“You’ve got it bad,” Rooster commented.
No sense denying it. Max hadn’t spent twenty hours on his bike for the fun of it. He’d come for Bethanne.
“What have you told her?”
“She knows about Kate, just not the suicide.”
“She knows about the wine business, doesn’t she?”
Max nodded. “Yeah.”
Rooster braced his elbows on his knees. “You’ve told her more than I figured you would.”
“Bethanne might go back to her husband,” Max murmured. His stomach tensed at the thought. The possibility was real, and he needed to prepare himself for whatever she decided.
Rooster immediately shrugged off Max’s concern. “You didn’t see the way her face lit up the second she saw you. The girl’s got it as bad as you.” He drank his coffee. “It’s a good thing she sent you that text message.”
“Why?”
Rooster shook his head. “Honestly, Max, you moped around like a lost puppy dog from the moment she left Vegas. Her phone call didn’t help, either.”
“She called to say she didn’t want to see me again.”
“Obviously, you talked her out of that.”
He hadn’t even tried. “No.”
“Listen, are you getting dressed or not? I’m hungry.”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“You got it.” Rooster sat back, balancing his ankle on the opposite knee.
Max changed into jeans, the shirt he’d bought in Vegas and his leather vest. He didn’t own much of anything else outside of his biking gear. Back at the house, he had a closet full of business suits. It’d been so long since he’d worn one, he wondered what it would feel like.
They headed for the elevator. “You going to call Bethanne?” Rooster asked.
“Later…” He couldn’t forget that Grant was still a factor. Her ex wasn’t going to simply remove himself from the picture.
The elevator finally came and they stepped inside, Rooster pushing the button for the lobby. The car stopped on the ninth floor. Bethanne’s floor.
Annie’s grandma was waiting in the hallway.
She hesitated when she saw them, then stiffened her shoulders and walked into the elevator, probably wishing there was someone else inside. Someone besides the two of them.
“Good morning, Grandma,” Rooster said.
“I am not your grandmother,” she snapped. Her back was as straight as a poker. “In fact, I’d venture to say you’re older than I am.”
That was patently untrue, but Rooster exchanged a smile with Max. “Are you going to let me buy you breakfast?” he asked, leaning forward and speaking into her ear.
“I should say not.” She made it sound as if he’d propositioned her.
“Anyplace in town you want,” Rooster said, not easily rejected.
His persistence appeared to fluster her. “Thank you for the invitation,” she said formally, “but I’m having breakfast with my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter. They’re in the lobby.”
“Sleep in, did you?”
“Heavens, no. I forgot my tickets in the room. We’re going to see the Twelve Irish Tenors and the Oak Ridge Boys.”
“The Oak Ridge Boys are in town?” Rooster asked, not hiding his excitement.
“Annie and I are going to the afternoon show.”
The elevator arrived at the lobby and the doors glided open. Max immediately saw Bethanne and Annie standing by the fireplace waiting. His gaze went directly to Bethanne. Without conscious thought, he started walking toward her and she toward him.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked in a low voice.
“Badly,” she